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  Dick inspected their whiskered cheeks, tried to asset their greed and intelligence. They were just a bunch of old, wind-and-rain-battered veterans, having lived through one siege or another, trying to turn the boredom of their task into a profitable endeavor. “Hand those coins over!”

  Everyone went quiet, waiting to see what he would do next. Reluctantly, the soldiers gave up their small stash of bronze and gold. Dick cupped the specie, then handed it over to the nearest guard, who flashed a quick grin of surprise at his sudden luck.

  “As long as I’m the Warden of the East, there will be no foreign coin in Ostland. If you wish to bet, you will do that with Monrich monies. You will have your winnings converted into bronze and gold rods.”

  The soldiers let out a collective breath of relief. Murmurs rippled through the crowd, as people tried to understand what Dick was doing. He was flying, unstoppable. “I want a royal decree read at every street corner and in every tavern. The people of Ostfort are to surrender all their foreign coin within two days. They will be fairly paid back in Monrich rods, equal weight and share. After that, anyone found with Valedian or Maniri coin will have their wealth seized.”

  Dick moved on, leaving a stunned audience behind him.

  “Very bold, My Prince,” Kief said, joining his side.

  Dick arched a brow. He had not spoken too much with his bastard relative lately. Kiefer was never around, always seemingly busy. Dick didn’t mind, as he had enough trouble at court already. “If the Barvans and their even more inbred cousins decide to infiltrate my city, I want to know about that. And the surest way is when someone pays for their ale and whores in strange mint.”

  “Very clever, My Prince.”

  “I know.”

  “Prince Dietrich,” Master Udo called, advancing again.

  Dick stopped. “Yes?”

  The master stepped so close Dick could smell his breath. “Your shooting skill is admirable. It should be nourished and not go to waste. Your ability to hit at such great range could significantly alter the course of future battles, if put to good practice.”

  Dick wasn’t sure what the poxy fuck had in mind. “Yes…”

  “With your permission, Your Royal Highness, I want to commission the city’s gunsmiths to fashion a special arquebus for you. It will have a barrel twice the size of a normal one, and it will have sighting aids to help you hit your target more easily.”

  Dietrich ceased listening to the empty praise and chatter around him. For a change, there seemed to be logic in the master’s words. And why not? Anything that would add to his glory. He would need every scrap for when Old Fart came marching east. “You want me to do this more often?”

  There was almost a maniacal grin on the master’s face. “Yes. You can kill Barvan chieftains before they even begin their assault on the walls. You can take down their outriders and scouts and their siege crews. And your actions will be a great inspiration to the people of this city. Imagine if you can hurt the enemy at twice or thrice the distance they can.”

  Dick did imagine it. The cheers from the soldiers. The tears in the eyes of grizzled, disillusioned veterans. The sighs and swoons of the ladies. The revelry, the praise. He had already showed his courage in Challe, in the halls of the fort, and in Korav. Killing enemies from a thousand steps away would make him into a living legend.

  A thousand steps to a target, one step closer to the throne.

  “I like this. See that it is done, Master.”

  With a gruff nod, the poxy fuck was gone, his face contorted into something that might, in just the right light, be called appreciation.

  Dick was elated. But his day was only going to get better. He was going to see Eva again, and he would help her perfect her disguise. In a strange way, he enjoyed it. He wanted to believe he was slowly earning her trust. And then, if there were no bad surprises, for the first time, she would be allowed into the city. He could only imagine how pleased and grateful she would be.

  But first…the city had to be given its share of hope and morale.

  Hand in hand with Amadea, her chubby, clammy, cold fingers entwined with his, he walked the parapets, basking in the cheers from the soldiers. Faster than wildfire, the story of his incredible shooting skills was rushing through Ostfort. He was quite content, despite having his wife at his side.

  This is the kind of thing I was born to do. This is the kind of respect I deserve. The kind of respect the king deserves.

  He raised his arms aloft, forcing Amadea to tiptoe.

  The crowds cheered and cheered.

  CHAPTER 26

  Do Not Resist

  “Men are simple creatures; stoke their loins and watch the fire burn.”

  —ISABELLA THE RED, EXECUTED FOR HER EXCESSIVE LEWDNESS, OLD AGE

  5th Day of the Month of the Sickle

  Dietrich squirmed.

  He wasn’t comfortable being alone with Castellan Enduria in a room. The more painful details of his last private encounter with her were firmly edged in the back of his mind. He wasn’t keen on reliving them.

  Bloody Reeve Gotelieb was running late.

  “We had better start the meeting, Your Royal Highness.”

  Dick rapped his fingers on the table, stopping when he noticed her piercing stare. “Yes.”

  Lady Enduria laid a report in front of him. “I must remind you that our supplies will run out in roughly three months at the current rate. The enemy will need not attack the city. We will just starve.”

  Dick huffed. “What do you expect me to do?”

  “Ration the food, Your Royal Highness. That way, we can survive through the early months of winter. By then, mercifully, the Barvans and the Nurflanders will have eaten through all their supplies, including our own harvest, admitted defeat, and retreated. Once the siege is lifted, the aid sent by Duke Ettore should see us safely till the next harvest.”

  Dick frowned. “Ration food?”

  “Yes, Your Royal Highness. Smaller meals.”

  Dick didn’t like the idea. “Isn’t there a better way?”

  Lady Enduria rolled her eyes, thinking. “You could order the Drechknights out of the city, or slaughter their horses. The animals are exerting a huge toll on our reserves. That alone would buy us a month or two.”

  Dick grimaced. “You can’t really have the knights prancing about without horses.” Father would not be pleased. “We will just have to do with awaiting Sacony’s help.” After all, he had hatched that brilliant idea before leading the army to Korav.

  “The people are not happy, Your Royal Highness. Hungry mouths do not breathe loyalty.”

  “That means—” Dick gasped as an even more brilliant idea struck him. “We must raise the morale in the city. Restore hope with the smallfolk. I have a great plan.”

  Lady Enduria was just about to hand him another report, but she stopped. “Do tell, Your Royal Highness.”

  “You shall invite a different family to my court every evening.” He reconsidered it. “Every other evening. They will dine at my table, and sample from my dishes. And I will give up…” He thought what food he didn’t quite like. “…turnips. Make the kitchen boys distribute a sack of turnips to mothers with babies every morning.”

  “That is a very noble plan, Your Royal Highness.”

  Dick was unstoppable now. “And we will also organize a game for the children of the city. They will hunt rats, and for every hundred they catch, we will give them a bronze rod.”

  “This may lead to crime and violence, Your Royal Highness. Moreover, selling the rat meat will probably fetch more than what you offer.”

  Dick didn’t want to trouble himself with details. “You will sort that out.”

  Lady Enduria nodded, her hawk eyes studying him carefully.

  Dick squirmed again. “Where is Reeve Gotelieb?”

  The castellan didn’t speak for a few long moments. “He will not be coming to this meeting.”

  Dick felt a pang of anger. “Why not? I asked him to report
on the city’s defenses.”

  “Because I asked him not to come, Your Royal Highness. I will deliver his report instead.”

  The pang of anger was gone, replaced by several pangs of dread. Dick suddenly wished he was closer to the door, but Enduria Jumpfer was squarely in his way. “Oh.”

  “Your Father is not sending his knights to relieve Ostfort.”

  The dread evaporated. “What! Old Fu—”

  “He has dispatched the Fearless Brigade instead,” the castellan cut him smoothly.

  Dick pushed away his frustration. “What? What happened to the Wolves and the Foxes and the Griffins?”

  Lady Enduria handed him a report. “King Ulaf, Saint protect him, has decided to drive his forces into the Barvan lands while they are occupied with this siege. He believes this is a great opportunity to crush the tribes and expel them farther north, and create a unified border from Weissgau to Ostfort and maybe even Salabia. This will bring us a generation of peace.”

  Dick pinched the paper from her hand as though it was laced in poison. He didn’t dare break eye contact with the castellan now, afraid that his mask of calm resolution would shatter.

  Should I be worried or happy? He had feared Father would meddle in his affairs and spoil everything. Well, that uncertainty was gone. Now he had a chance to really prove himself. But then, what if the enemy proved too difficult to defeat? What would he do then? Without the surety of Drechknight corps rushing to his aid, the risk of failure was so much greater. The Fearless Brigade were a cunning lot, but they weren’t the elite knights.

  Dick could not afford to make any mistakes now. If Old Fart was willing to risk his heir’s life to further his ambitions and expand his kingdom, then he expected Dick to survive the siege. Only King Ulaf could conceive such a wild plan.

  If I die, Old Father will never forgive me.

  Maybe the cantankerous fuck was doing this on purpose. I am the Warden of the East. I need to be able to resolve this situation myself.

  “We don’t need the corps,” he said, trying to sound convincing. “Our troops are sufficient to keep the enemy at bay. We only need to make sure their rations run out faster than ours. I will propose a series of raids aimed at destroying their supply lines.” This meant burning Ostland villages, but Dick believed Father would approve of that this one time.

  Unlike Mantberg.

  Lady Enduria commented on nothing. Dick didn’t know if she agreed—or just wanted him to fret.

  “Do we know when General Eusebio—the Fearless Brigade—will reach the city?”

  “The missive does not say, Your Royal Highness.”

  The resentment over the letter stirred in his stomach. Old Fart should have sent the letter to him. Instead, he confided in the castellan and his spies. Bastard.

  Dick tried to remember the Brigade’s last assignment. Quelling a rebellion in Fusshigel? Or fomenting one in Gevine? The latter seemed more likely.

  Dick glanced at the report and then tossed it away, without reading. “Anything else?”

  “A Nurflander named Dolf wishes you to know that his tribe will leave the city if you surrender your lady wife to him for one night.”

  Dick considered it for a moment. That was a most lucrative plan. And based on Enduria’s expression, she seemed keen on it, too. But that would mean an endless amount of explaining to Father, and Dick couldn’t think of an easy way to evade the sum of all blame and fury that would follow. Unfortunately, Amadea would have to stay.

  “I will have to respectfully decline.”

  “The Hyevan mercenary Afanasy has dropped his price to just one hundred thousand silver.”

  “How gracious of him.”

  “Herzog Sigismund reports a presence of a small army in the vicinity of Loblank. He believes these may be outriders of another Nurflander tribe. He has recalled the troops from Salabia now, but he will keep them in the city.”

  Dick had not expected anything other than excuses from the herzog. That weasel would pay one day.

  “Your scheme to force the people of the city to use only Monrich rods is already bearing fruit, Your Royal Highness. Just in the last three days, the city watch had apprehended at least a score of unsavory characters, some of whom are suspected to be spies or saboteurs. Others are most likely just greedy mercenaries.”

  “I want them disposed of quietly. No fanfare. No angry mobs. No public hanging. No tarred heads on spikes. I don’t want the enemy to know I have an easy way of finding out who they are. I expect discretion. And I expect Ritter Heimo to figure out how they sneaked into Ostfort undetected.”

  “I shall take a note of that, Your Royal Highness.”

  Dick waited as she wrote in a careful, meticulous manner.

  Lady Enduria read off another sheet of paper. “There’s very little movement among the enemy troops.”

  That worried him. He hadn’t thought these savages capable of so much patience and restraint. Maybe they just planned on bloodless starvation, or they knew they didn’t have sufficient strength to attack the city. Yet. Their siege weapons were old, menacing things but nothing that could compare to the cannon in Ostfort’s towers. The mercenaries did field falconets, but again, their range couldn’t match the city artillery.

  Somehow, Dick didn’t think bloodless would work for Barvans and Nurflanders much longer.

  What do they have in mind, then?

  He thought about agitating them—not too much, though. There was always a chance the enemy might attack suddenly, turn out to be much stronger than expected, overwhelm the defenses, raze the city, and then Dick would end up a prisoner or a slave or worse. After last year’s turmoil, he didn’t plan on ending in captivity again.

  But he must not look weak, either. The Barvans believed in a show of strength and so did their inbred cousins. He had to appear fearless. That would make the enemy hesitate and buy him time until reinforcements arrived.

  He thought about Eva and her captivity. How must she feel? Well, she was definitely much nicer to him since he’d let her walk the city streets.

  Something on his face must have changed, because Lady Enduria suddenly stood up.

  Dick leaned back in his chair. “My Lady?”

  “Prince Dietrich.”

  Dick swallowed. “Are we done, then?”

  “With the reports, yes, Your Royal Highness.”

  “Eh, what else is there?”

  “You, Your Royal Highness.”

  Dick remembered he had ten pistols in his holsters. “Me?”

  “I believe you lust for me, Your Royal Highness.”

  “I do?” No, no, no, no, no!

  “It is evident you have no passion for your lady wife.”

  “What’s that got to do with anything? I am a married man. Amadea is—”

  Lady Enduria waved her hand in dismissal. “Your wife. Indeed. But you, My Prince, are a wild stallion, and you are to be tamed.”

  Dick swallowed. Oh, not again! But now, he wasn’t lying in bed, recovering from injuries. He was stronger, and he could probably wrestle his way out of the room. Most likely.

  Lady Enduria stepped around the table. “Do not resist. There’s no point.”

  Dick wished he didn’t have such a deeply ingrained affinity for authoritative women. One of Volkard’s specialties. The flood of memories stirred something inside him. He realized he hadn’t been with a woman—this woman—since arriving back in Ostfort. The siege meant he would probably end up having to bargain with a Nurflander for one of their sheep, as the city had no diversions. He had spent so much time focusing on making Eva like him that he had forgotten about his urges.

  He suddenly realized he was quite edgy, as a whole.

  “I must protest, My Lady.”

  She made a sound that could have been a chortle. But that didn’t make sense, because her face remained stony. She moved closer. Dick retreated as far as he could, pushing his back into the unyielding, cold stone of the fort.

  “Do not resist,” she re
peated, almost threatening.

  The things I do for Monrich, he thought and sighed, taking off his holsters.

  CHAPTER 27

  In Disguise

  “The mask of honesty comes with age, which is why children are the bannermen of truth.”

  —NICCO OF VALED, EMPEROR SUPREME OF VALED, WHO USED TO PRETEND TO BE A COMMONER TO HEAR THE PUBLIC VOICE, FROM THE BOOK OF HISTORICAL AFFAIRS ON VALEDIAN RULERS BY THALIUS, CIRCA 420–440

  6th Day of the Month of the Sickle

  Eva was delighted.

  Fresh air, even air that smelled of a thousand unwashed bodies, boiled turnips and wet dust, was better than the sweet fragrance of a velvety prison. She was so glad to be out and about again, walking the streets of Ostfort. The siege, the scarcity of food and the high prices, and the fact she was still a hostage didn’t bother her now. They were a worry for later.

  Never once did she consider fleeing. Not only had she made her promise, she was so focused on enjoying her walk.

  Dick had been true to his word, and very subtle. Only a trained eye would notice her escort, the armed men who casually followed her, trying to look only mildly interested in their surrounding.

  No one paid her much attention. She was a humble woman, wearing no gold or silver, draped in a light summer cloak of good but plain cut, with the hood pulled over her dyed hair.

  Not being recognized made her stomach flutter.

  She had some coin—rods—with her, and she used them to purchase small, simple goods. Back in Enissia, she would never have done this. It would always be Teresa or another maid of the house who would visit the markets and the wharves. Eva liked the interaction, liked watching the faces of the traders as they plied their trade. People were normally tight-lipped and stern-faced, but they forgot themselves when they sold their wares. Maybe it gave them the same illusion she had, that there was no war, and that things were just fine.

  She had no particular use for the honey she had bought just earlier, but then, she didn’t need money either. It was something to do, something to enjoy.